Читать книгу Finding Love at Hedgehog Hollow - Jessica Redland - Страница 13

‘Here’s my phone number,’ I said to Rich, one of the paramedics, while his colleague secured the patient inside the vehicle. ‘I know it’s not always easy to find out information but, if you can, I’d love to know how he’s doing.’

Rich took the piece of paper and smiled. ‘I’ll do my best. You do realise that, by getting lost, you’ve probably saved his life?’

I nodded. ‘If the sat nav hadn’t been so useless, I’d never have been here. He’d have—’ I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

‘Well, you were here and he’s alive right now because of it. Lucky for him you’re a nurse.’ Rich closed the back doors then clambered into the driver’s seat. ‘You know where you’re going now?’ It turned out I was in an area called Huggleswick, only a couple of miles away from Aversford Manor.

‘Yes, thanks. I’ll check for any pets then lock up and get myself to the wedding.’

Rich started the engine. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

I watched the ambulance move slowly and steadily down the farm track, then went back into the house. Closing the door front behind me, I leaned against it, suddenly feeling quite shaky, tearful and nauseous. Dealing with scenarios like that had been part of my day job for seven years. Regular. Normal. But today was anything but a normal day for me. I was in a bridesmaid dress with no medical equipment, I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since breakfast, I was hopelessly lost and the man I loved had just married my cousin.

Get it together, Sam. Focus on the pet hunt. I made my way into the kitchen but couldn’t see any dog or cat bowls in there although that didn’t mean there weren’t any pets.

I wandered round the rest of the ground floor, opening and closing doors, an air of sadness engulfing me. The rooms were huge and each had oversized windows with stunning views. The place oozed with potential to be an amazing family home but it felt tired and unloved. The décor was dated and the whole place was in desperate need of a good clean. In my years as a district nurse, I’d seen homes like this so often: once loving-family abodes full of love and life, which were now prisons to one surviving spouse who didn’t have the energy, enthusiasm or perhaps the good health to keep on top of everything.

The lounge at Hedgehog Hollow told a tale of TV dinners for two, except one of them was only present in photographs rather than in person. Opposite a green lumpy sofa stood a Welsh dresser – the only surface not thick with dust – covered in photos in gleaming silver frames. They showed what appeared to be the same woman develop from a fresh-faced twenty-something brunette to a woman probably in her late fifties with greying hair.

A black and white wedding photo took pride of place in the middle of the dresser. They’d certainly been a handsome couple back then. The style of her wedding dress was very similar to Nanna’s so they’d likely wed in the early or mid-sixties.

There weren’t any children in the photos but animals featured heavily – dogs, cats, horses, sheep and several hedgehogs. I smiled as I peered more closely at a triple frame showing a picture of the woman holding three tiny hoglets in the palms of her hands, another of her holding a large hedgehog curled into a ball, and one of her feeding an injured hedgehog.

‘Was the farm named Hedgehog Hollow especially for you?’ I whispered. ‘I love hedgehogs. Looks like you did too.’

It wasn’t just hedgehogs I loved. Any animals did it for me – probably unsurprising with Dad being a vet and Gramps being so passionate about wildlife. While I was growing up, Mum refused to let me have any pets. She always said that if she let Dad bring one waif or stray home, it would open the floodgates for them all and the house would be ‘over-run with moggies, mongrels and one-legged rabbits.’ Between the garden at Meadowcroft and helping out with cage-cleaning and odd jobs in the veterinary practice where Dad worked, I managed to get my animal fix.

Straightening up from the photos, I scanned round the rest of the lounge, shaking my head. I toyed with the idea of using the landline to call Dad but the state of the farm suggested money was tight and I didn’t want to add to the phone bill without permission. I needed to get going. I’d do the washing up, dispose of that milk on the side and empty the bins so at least he wouldn’t return home to an infestation if he was in hospital for some time. Assuming he ever returned home.

I was just about to leave the house when my ears pricked up. Was that a cat mewing? I put the binbag down and listened again. Definitely mewing and coming from the back of the house.

Opening the door to a large cloak and boot room, I looked down at the most stunning grey striped tabby cat. Greyish-green eyes fixed on mine and its head tilted to one side as if trying to work out who I was and whether I had food.

‘Hello, Tabby,’ I said. ‘Where did you appear from? You weren’t in here earlier.’ I shifted aside a coat dangling from the external door to reveal a cat flap. I hung the coat on one of the hooks. ‘You won’t be able to get out again if that stays there.’

I bent down and offered my fingers for a sniff. Tabby weaved round my legs, purring loudly, tail high in the air revealing that she was a girl.

I found an empty water bowl hidden by some wellington boots that had toppled over. I filled it with fresh water from a Belfast sink and lay it down on the floor. She must have been thirsty as she instantly lapped from it.

‘Food,’ I muttered, opening and closing cupboards. Inside the third one were several boxes of wet and dry cat food and a couple of bowls. ‘I’ll put this out for you and then I’m going to have to leave you but I’ll come back tomorrow to feed you if I can find a spare key. I’ll leave food outside if I can’t. Hopefully your owner will be home soon but I promise I won’t let you starve.’

When I’d filled the bowls and put them down, Tabby tucked in, still purring.

The cloakroom door had been closed when I arrived so she was obviously an outdoor cat who came in for sustenance. She’d be fine at the farm providing I dropped by occasionally and I was more than happy to do that until her owner returned. Please let him return.